I want a gaggle. A prickle. A clowder.

I have a confession.

Sometimes I lie in bed and stare at the monitor and will the lights to come on, alerting me that Evelyn needs me. I actually want her to wake up in the middle of the night, or early in the morning, and need me to come in to nurse, rock, cuddle...

Yep. I want my baby to wake up at night.*

You might think I'm jinxing myself. Who wants that?! And sometimes I am really tired and I do like my sleep, but there are many nights when I hope to hear her squeaking.

I've been watching 19 Kids and Counting lately, not to gawk at them but more in amazement. I know people have strong opinions about the Duggar family but I don't really have a horse in that race. I'm of the opinion that each family gets to decide on their own what works for them. But watching them makes me think about parenting and families and risk and resilience factors, and how we navigate through life.

Then I came across this blog post about having more kids (by way of this blog, which I encourage everyone and their dog to read). It's a decent post, referencing some research that may or may not be as simple as it sounds when neatly summarized in a blog.

I'm not really getting to the point because I think it's more of a discovery that I'm slowly trying to make for myself right now. I'm becoming more aware of cultural, societal, and familial norms and expectations that we impose on ourselves and others. Whether it's huge families or families who decide not to have children, or families with an unwritten "Two kids" rule (my husband's family)... it's sometimes disheartening to me how quick we can be to think we understand how other families and relationships work and what's best for them.

I was always cool with the "two kids" rule. When I was pregnant, there were many days when I was convinced that I couldn't carry a child again. But then the day Evelyn was born I knew I wanted to do it again. And it was difficult at first. Really difficult. Exceedingly, overwhelmingly, can't go an hour without a blotchy-faced wailing breakdown difficult. But there were cards and phone calls and dinners and lactation consultants and naps and juice boxes from midwives and so much love. And it's good to go through difficult experiences and practice graceful acceptance of that love from others, and practice self-forgiveness and mindfulness.

So as for me and my house, we just might have a pod. (Or we might reach some overwhelming developmental stage and decide that one mouse is enough.)

And either way, we're right.

* Oh... so many footnotes I could add to this post. But for now I'll just add one. About how it's somewhat taboo to say such things because there are many moms out there right now wishing their babies would sleep. But I'm all about normalizing things and I think it's good to tell your parenting stories, be they good or bad or in between. Some moms have idyllic, beautiful births. Some have different experiences. Some moms and babies have zero problems with breastfeeding. Some have continuous problems. And we're all okay. It's not a competition. We're all in it together.